Lost in Green
by Reign of the Lunar Wolf
Summary: Harry is done with the Dursleys. He read his letter and he knows he can do magic. And now would be a good time to use it. Sirius is done with Azkaban, he knew he would get out one day. He was determined to not fail his child this time. - Rated M for graphic violence, and language. Extremely AU but I set it up early. Harry/Luna Animagus!Harry - Title subject to change.
1. Chapter 1 - Learning to Fly

Lost in Green

Harry is done with the Dursleys. He read his letter and he _knows_ he can do magic.  
Sirius is done with Azkaban. He knew he would get out one day, and he was determined not to fail his child again.  
Rated M for graphic violence, and language. _Extremely AU _but I set it up immediately.  
Harry/Luna _Animagus_!Harry

Disclaimer: No money will be made from the production of this work. I hold no rights to the intellectual property used in this work of fiction.

* * *

**Chapter 1**  
_Learning to Fly_

_Italicized are thoughts/Parseltongue/flashbacks/sarcasm/I'm sure you can figure it out._

* * *

The day was here.

The day that I would leave the Dursleys forever. The family was going to the Zoo for Dudley's birthday. Since Mrs. Figg was on vacation they would be forced to take me, lest I stay in their _perfect home _and _ruin _it with my _freakishness_. I could make my escape while we're at the zoo, it would be all too easy to simply slip into the crowd. I had read so many spy novels where the good guy gets away instantly when he walks into a crowded street and changes his jacket. The Dursley's would probably jump at the chance to leave me behind. I'd be more surprised if they didn't 'forget' me than if they actually bothered to check if I was following them or not. It wasn't uncommon for them to forget me when they were forced to bring me places, and then act surprised when I eventually returned, hours later.

"Better not burn the bacon, boy!" Vernon was already seated, waiting for his son to arrive while he drank his morning tea ("_3 sugars and lots of cream. From the cupboard, not the stuff from the fridge! I want to enjoy my day, somehow."_) and read the paper. He turned to address me, like this next statement wasn't one I had been hearing for weeks leading up to this day.

"You _will not_ ruin my boy's day, do you _understand?" _Vernon hissed the words as if I would ever forget. I meant nothing and Dudley meant everything. That was understood from _Day One _in the Dursley household. _I've got dumb, drunk parents who couldn't even raise their own son and the Dursleys are saints for not dumping me on an orphanage doorstep. _I had heard the lecture a hundred times, ever since I could cook the bacon I had been hearing horrible comments about my parents. _Yeah, Vernon. I understand _perfectly_ fine._

"Yes, Uncle Vernon." The reply was monotone and spoken without turning my head. I knew there was no point to say anything else, Vernon would only scold me further, Petunia might even join in at that point, with her shrill voice and angry glares. I was lost in thought, daydreaming of sleeping anywhere that wasn't a dirty little cupboard. I didn't even notice Dudley's entrance until Petunia began to shriek and wish 'Dudders' (and the dreaded 'Duddykins!') a Happy Birthday. I made a tactical retreat to the front corridor to get the mail and avoid the worst of the smothering Dudley would receive. _At least I'll never have to deal with that, I don't have a mum to do it. _I thought with a sad smile. _Hm. This is an odd letter_. The yellow-ish paper seemed both new and ancient all at the same time. Even weirder than that, it was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs.

I paused just long enough to consider my options before carefully prying apart the wax seal, without breaking it. The letter contained in the envelope was easily as strange as the ancient paper it was written on. _It's gotta be a hoax, right? Maybe, maybe not though. Do you wanna take that chance? _I thought about it for a minute and there were definitely some signs of colour in my sepia toned universe. My hair staying at the same length for my entire memorable life for example. Then there was that time I ended up on the roof after hiding behind a dumpster. Also, the little lights in my cupboard that showed up when all I wanted to do was _see_ something after a day or two in there. There was also the time when I had a whole conversation with a snake in the driveway, until Vernon saw it and chopped it in half with a garden hoe. _Yeah, there may be credence to this letter after all. And that wasn't even all of the weirdness I could recall off the top of my head. Besides, how would they know about my cupboard without magic? I'd certainly never told anyone, and the Dursley's wouldn't likely mention their nephew in the cupboard in casual conversation._ I was just placing the seal back to the paper when Dudley opened the door to yell at me at the behest of his father.

"What's _that, _freak?" Dudley's voice was nearly as shrill as his mother's when he yelled. So much so that it made me grimace every time I heard it. Bad enough when it's only one of them but when both are going it's like listening to a toddler scratch at his plate with a fork.

"Mail, _Duddykins, _what does it look like?" I was toeing the threshold with that line and I knew it. If I was too short with the Dursleys they would probably leave me behind in the cupboard and I would never get my chance to live my own life. If I were to appear too excited to go the same thing would probably happen, so I was careful to keep my face neutral as they fell for my lie about not noticing the letter. Vernon merely told me that the address actually read _Number 5_ and the letter wasn't for me. Of course, the buffoon didn't even look at the wax seal twice before ripping it open.

I was told to clean up the table and eat my toast before Piers Polkiss arrived. Their breakfast was over in less than 10 minutes, a fraction of the time it took to cook it. Clean up was faster though. It gave me some time in my cupboard to gather up all of my belongings - and put on a torn jacket that I could drop if I needed to - before they had to leave. It surprised me when everything I wanted to take with me fit into one of the pockets on my oversized jeans. It really wasn't much, a broken army man, a few bird feathers from the park, some interestingly coloured stones, and my most prized possession, something I would never tell anyone about lest it be 'confiscated' from me. One day when I was 6 or 7, I was hiding from Dudley when I found an odd silver dollar lying in the grass. I picked it up and held it in my hand, watching the light dance around it. Determined to get it past Dudley and into the relative safety of my cupboard, I palmed it and threw a rock at him when he caught me. Dudley never noticed a thing as he was kicking my ribs, and it gave me an odd sense of satisfaction whenever I looked at it.

* * *

In the car I was subject to the torture of both boys, who were seated on either side of me. The zoo was a welcome reprieve, the two arseholes were too distracted with each other to bother with tormenting me. I was glad I hadn't left them behind yet. I actually got a can of soda when Dudley and Piers got their ice cream. It turned out to be a pretty good day after all, and it wasn't even at the best part yet. The 'Birds of Prey' section was my favorite. There were so many fierce looking birds. Their claws and beaks capable of delivering fatal blows to animals ten times their size. Their powerful wings capable of carrying them anywhere they wanted. If I could be any animal, a bird is what I would be. _Wait a mo'. Magic! I bet there's a way. I'm going to bloody find out._ But all too soon Dudley became bored with the stoic majesty of the creatures and they moved on. I was thinking about how the transformation from human to a bird would work for the next 2 sections of the Zoo before I would be distracted from my thoughts.

The 'Reptile House' was invitingly cool. The air outside had warmed to a blistering level in the afternoon sun. _There's a lot of animals for such a small building,_ I noted as I walked by the chameleons and iguanas. I paused at the komodo dragons. _Those are some deadly looking lizards._ Also housed here were the amphibious species. Poisonous frogs, toads, newts. The turtles were interesting, mainly because of their age. They had a 53 year old one and it just sat there sunbathing, occasionally snapping at the other turtles that came too close to his rock. The snakes were what I was looking forward to seeing in this place though. Ever since that first conversation with that snake in the garden, I would take any chance I could to talk to a snake. They were mostly good conversationalists, with a few rather dour exceptions.

Most of the snakes were hidden, probably sleeping. The ones in my neighborhood were nearly always sleeping when I tried to find them. They did not like to be woken up, and I could attest to the fact. I had four white dots on my pointer finger to prove it. After that I made sure to learn the sleeping pattern of snakes and to only approach from afar. I was enjoying myself looking at the snakes, at the moment admiring the pattern of a 'Saw Tooth Viper'. Apparently the thing was responsible for more annual deaths than any other snake.

_"I would kill the fat ones first, then the chicken lady and the tall boy. This one would be too scared to do anything."_ The words were quiet but unmistakably coming from the snake before me. I checked over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching before replying. The Dursleys were pretending not to know me, and were sure to stand as far away as possible. That suited me perfectly well.

_"I'm the one you should watch out for, noodle." _I barely whispered, but the snake heard fine.

_"I am known as Draena. You insolent human. If there were no barrier in between us I would strike so fast you wouldn't even know what's happening. And then I would eat you and grow to the size of a King."_

I thought about that for a moment. I might be able to make that happen. Not the eating me part, but the glass was definitely something I should be able to manage. After all, I _was_ a wizard now, right? Although I would have to ask about what he meant by _the size of a King_, snakes didn't recognize most human constructs I had found. Considering all the methods for performing magic I could think of, I was at loss. I had never been conscious of it when doing magic in the past, and I had no idea how to go about performing it at will.

I was determined though, and I searched my mind for any mention of wizards from my years hiding in the library. Deciding to follow the advice of a magician from a book I read years ago, I concentrated on the surface of the glass with all my might. I studied the smooth plane; the slight reflections looking back at me; the glare that made it difficult to see everything inside the enclosure; the edges that were recessed into the wall. The imperfections, where kids smeared their accumulated grease on the glass; and the perfect spots, where you could see through so clearly it was like there wasn't any glass there. I thought about the panes disappearing; about the glass just ceasing to exist; turning into empty space; simple air molecules floating around unimpeded.

* * *

I was stood there for a long while, not responding when Dudley called out to me.

_"Hey, Freak! We're leaving now!"_

Vernon, always one to capitalize on an opportunity, decided it was time to leave, telling Piers that I had money to take the bus back home, knowing full well I didn't. I didn't even notice, so focused was I on accomplishing this feat. When I finally gave up, some time later, it was to my astonishment. Draena was perched on the edge of her enclosure and leaning on the railway, far closer than what should have been possible. I jumped back with a yell, losing my balance and falling to the floor, to the apparent amusement of the carpet snake.

_"Are you all so clumsy, little human?" _Draena was wheezing as she spoke, a sign of laughter I supposed. Whatever it was, it was an odd sound to hear from a reptile's throat. I climbed to my feet, glaring at the highly venomous serpent.

_"Can you go back into the enclosure, please? I can't get in trouble. I have plans I can't afford to blow. I'm trying to get away without attracting attention!" _I was desperately hoping nobody would notice, but at the same time I was barely containing my elation that the magic worked.I had never realized that I was doing magic before but I had hoped that this time it might be different, since I was aware of the magic and I was forcing it to happen. A glance around the room proved the urgency of the situation as the few people in the vicinity started to glance in my direction. _"People are starting to look!"_

I motioned for the snake to go back into it's enclosure when it lunged at my wrist. I froze, knowing that a bite meant certain death and yet not being able to do anything to stop it. I closed my eyes and screwed up my face in anticipation of a bite that never came. Draena was quick to circle around my arm and up to the shoulder, head resting on my collarbone, underneath my shirt.

_"Let's go little human." _I was surprised to note that Draena's voice was different from this distance, there was more nuance. Her voice was now identifiable as _her_ voice. It was a unique variation of the rather monotone hissing that I was used to hearing._"No time to waste if you don't want to be caught smuggling the most dangerous snake in the world out of the London Zoo."_

There was barely a moment to consider my options before the amount of looks I was receiving forced me to move on, out of the Reptile House. I circled back through the Birds of Prey, gazing longingly at the beautiful plumage and regal stature that made the agile predators look every bit as dangerous as they were. _I__ will find a way to become one of you. _I was quick to move on, but apparently not quick enough. I noticed a couple of heads in the crowd adorned with police caps. Moving to the side of the path I was able to get a better view. The officers were talking to some of the people who were staring at me in the Reptile House. _Shit. _

I started walking the opposite direction, a group of people taking up most of the path concealing my movements. _They're still back there, as long as I go straight to the exit I should be able to leave._ I used that as a mantra to keep calm as I weaved through people, hiding in plain sight. I was just rounding the Hippo enclosure, when I noticed the officer staring dead at me, walking determinedly in my direction. I knew there was no way I could fight the monster of a man that was bearing down on me at a deceiving speed, so I did the only thing I could do. I ran.

"_I can help you, little human." _Draena struggled to be heard over the sounds of people shouting and running.

"_How are you gonna do that? Grow wings and get us the fuck out of here?" _I snapped back without thinking, only focusing on the task at hand.

I turned to the left and began to run. My mind began to run on what I like to call Hunting Mode. Not named for how cool it sounds (_Which it _does!), but after the favourite 'game' of Dudley's. Everything falls away except the task at hand; Run like a Ugandan sprinter and _never. Get. __**Caught.**_

_"Are you all so stupid? You possess power young one. Use it." _Draena spoke as if it were obvious, like I should just_ turn into a bird_ and...

"_Draena you genius! But I can't control it." _I knew what I had to do, but I had no idea how to do it. On top of that, I was focused on not getting both of us caught.

_'Clear! Dodge the little girl! Push the souvenir cart over! Clear! Bloody hell, how'd he get over there? Right. Right! Shove past the geezers! Left again! Nevermind! There's definitely more than one after me now!'_

"_Focus within, that is where the power lies. Tighten your coils and strike with one movement." _Draena attempted to explain while we ran, but her understanding of what focus and power were, were of limited use. I couldn't _feel_ anything, I had no indication of anything extraordinary happening.

My panting was beginning to drown everything out, so I just focused on that instead of trying to do something I didn't even know how to do. _In. Out. In. Out. In. Out._

Running was starting to become unbearable. My lungs were burning and my legs felt like jelly. From experience, I knew what came next. The cramping in my side that would almost certainly spell doom for my plans of escape._ Fuck, what am I supposed to do now? There's one right in front of me! _

_"Now little human! Focus on getting out of here and strike with whatever power you have!"_ Draena was coiled tightly around my neck and shoulder, yelling as much as a snake could into my ear.

Thinking quickly, I closed my eyes and pushed off the ground. Leaping with all my might to the side in a desperate grab for freedom. I waited for the inevitable impact of bodies for what seemed like ages, but it never came. Instead, my endless leap gave way to odd sensations. I could feel the wind changing underneath me, the air currents pushing me minutely in different directions. There was a feeling of hair bending in the wind all over my body. My scream of terror and adrenaline-fueled joy gave way before returning with exceptional force, in the form of a mighty screech. The sound might have been deafening but it was strangely muted, like I was holding my fingers in my ears.

My eyes snapped open and I was transported to an alien world. The colours were _not_ at _all _like what I was used to. The greens were all much darker than they should have been while everything else was either too bright or too dark to make sense of much. The regular looking brown of Draena was a beacon in a sea of distorted colours when I looked downward and finally spotted something familiar. Looking to my left in an attempt to catch a glimpse of my body, I was able to see far too many fingers where my hand should be. '_Feathers! I'm a bloody _bird_! Yes! I did it, I'm a fucking magician! I'm free!'_ The elation I felt at that moment could have powered Monsters Inc for a decade, until I remembered that I was helping someone else escape their keepers too._ 'Oh shit, Draena's falling!' _Luckily time seemed to be moving slightly slower as a bird, or maybe my mind was simply registering everything faster and it only seemed that way. Either way Draena was falling and I needed to do something, lest I let my new friend fall to an untimely doom. Luckily we were oddly high up and I had a fighting chance at saving her.

_'I guess it's time to test out these wings.'_ I flapped once, launching myself well above the wall that would have broken my fall had I not transformed, and careening towards the left. '_That's not it.' _My second flap was better, it righted my flight enough that I could angle my outstretched arms _(Wings, gotta remember they're wings.)_ parallel to the ground to try and glide down and catch the snake without hitting the ground. The correction gave me enough time to realize that it would take too long to glide.

So I thought back to the days I spent at the park, with nothing to do but watch the birds fly and the squirrels run. I thought about those birds and the ones I saw today, and about their techniques when it came to diving. The powerful, deliberate strokes of a bird of prey, and the rapid flapping of the sparrows and jays at home. Judging by the first two flaps of my wings I guessed I was probably one of the former. They left their wings out, catching the air and riding it down while pumping their wings to go faster, and then they flare them out and seem to hover in space for a moment before using their huge wingspan to launch them back into the sky as if it didn't even happen. I gave another quick flap to gain height before tucking my wings in a bit, angling towards the ground with wicked looking talons outstretched, hoping they wouldn't pierce the delicate looking scales that covered Draena's body.

_'Here goes nothing.' _I stuck my wings back out, hoping to slow down my descent and catch Draena. All with enough time left over to recover and get back above the heads of the officers before their surprise wore off. Surprisingly, that wasn't what happened. Instead of smoothing my descent, my shoulders burst into agony and immediately I tucked my wings back into my body. Unable to control my speed, I came barreling into Draena, scraping her scales as she got seized in a death grip. '_I've been through worse. Definitely been through worse. You can do it, Harry. Just get through the-'_

* * *

The zoo disappeared. I couldn't see anything but darkness long enough to wonder why before suddenly the world came back to me.

_'Where am I?' _

The thought was enough to bring me back to reality. Not realizing that I was, still in fact, a bird, I crashed to the floor, releasing the death grip I still held around the snake. Draena was thrown from my grip and landed metres away, where she sat spewing profanity for the next hour and a half while I tried to figure out how to stop being a bloody _bird_ so that I could _get out _of this damn place. Eventually the thought of never leaving the room creeped into my mind and it sparked a panic large enough for me to revert back into my normal body. Crisis averted, I was able to study the room, ignoring the rather creative obscenities from the snake.

Breathing a sigh of relief when I checked my pockets and found my dollar, I checked out the room for the first time with my normal eyes. The room was dim, the only window was shuttered from the outside, only a thin line of light was able to pierce through the grimy glass. Candles seemed to be the lighting method of choice, although there were no matches to be found. Anyways, the candles were giant melted monstrosities that had little chance of containing a wick long enough to burn amongst the piles of ancient wax. There was an imposing fireplace taking up half of one wall and a rather dirty looking couch sat adjacent to it. A desk that seemed too tall for even an adult to sit at was residing in the space under the window with two uncomfortable chairs in front of it. Everything in sight was decorated in shades of green and black, with a healthy accent of silver. Snakes seemed to be a popular adornment, for they were featured on as many furniture pieces as it was polite to include, and a few more than that.

There were two rooms off of this one and both lead to corridors filled with doors of lavishly lacquered mahogany and expensive looking paintings that almost seemed to move. When I noticed the grand staircase at the end of the corridor, I quickly decided that this huge, mysterious place just _begged_ for exploration.

_-o-O-o-_

**End of chapter**

_-o-O-o-_

AN: So, do let me know your thoughts. This is the first thing I've written that I want to share, so feedback, yeah?  
Updated: July 21 2020


	2. Chapter 2 - A Mysterious Place

**Chapter 2**  
_A Mysterious Place_

_Italicized are thoughts/Parseltongue/flashbacks/sarcasm/use context to find out._

The coldest place on Earth was far from the Arctic, and even farther from the Antarctic. The island was shrouded in fog. Fisherman swore that whoever sailed into those waters would be taken by sirens. Merchant captains were more wary of the huge, craggy rocks that littered the shores, and the fog that made it hard to see the nose of your ship, let alone the ocean beneath it. Whatever the reason, nobody was able to approach. Some would plan the journey for months, only to get within sight just to suddenly turn around, with no explanation for the weeks of food and water stored in their boat for the 4 hour trip that they just completed. On this island, day was more akin to night, and at midnight it was often darker than the pits of Tartarus. All the while it's prisoners remain locked in cells, demons feeding on anything even marginally good in their minds, leaving only their worst memories to keep the inmates company.

Being Padfoot helps. Dogs don't have the best memories, so they make the best of their lives, no matter the environment. He doesn't really remember the years before Azkaban. When we ran with Prongs and Moony, with the rat scurrying around underfoot. Or the nights we spent sleeping at James' house at 15, transformed into a dog to get James to let me into his bed. He doesn't think about the son James had that I loved like my own, and the countless, yet somehow far too few, days we spent playing in the gardens of Lily and James' cottage. There's nothing left for the dementors to take from his canine brain, so he forever lives in the moment, almost content. If only he could run around and catch a rabbit, he would be fine.

Cabin fever is the worst thing to combat when you get to this point. However, if you can get your hands on a discarded quill, you can write rune schemes to keep yourself busy, and alive. People often think tattoos come from tribes who wanted to look fierce and warriors who kept track of their kills, but their origin is far from tribal.

Tattoos in general, whether magical or not, were first used by the Egyptians, to keep souls from reaching the underworld and bind them to this realm. After a thousand years of doing this, the people of the time discovered tremendous effects when they inscribed symbols upon the living, as well. They could imbibe their wearer with great advantages, from strength in battle to vitality in bed. They were also dangerous. Magical tattoos could also tear the wearer apart from within, the forces of magic clashing within the body and ripping apart their very being. Eventually, after the use of tattoos had spread across the pre-staff wielding world, some dedicated magicians found out that scarification was a far superior method to tattooing. You could achieve far greater advantages with this new technique than you could using ink. With ink, your strength may allow a person to cave in an opponents skull with a punch. 'Blood Magic' as it was dubbed, could allow a person to crumble stones in their hands like biscuits. You could make the darkest night look like a sunny afternoon in your vision; Give yourself the ability to become one with the elements; To blend into the shadows or scatter on the wind and appear on the other side of the planet. For all of the unimaginable benefits, Blood Magic was far more dangerous. For one, it requires a single continuous cut to draw complicated rune sequences across the body, causing a drastic amount of blood loss that you have to fight off naturally or with your own magic. Another thing is the amount of magic involved in giving your blood willingly. Some people don't have the magical capacity to support the constant drain of Blood Magic Rituals. Others don't know how to properly channel the magic through the knife and into the skin. When that happens, well let's just day that if magical tattoos gone wrong are akin to a Molotov cocktail, when Blood Magic goes wrong it's like a hand grenade going off in a room full of fireworks. Ancients often practiced Blood Magic in deep caves or high in the mountains, for that reason.

Padfoot doesn't approve of my tattoos. They show up in weird places after the transformation. Not that anybody can see them, as I often remind him. They keep me alive anyways. I have one that makes sure my body absorbs as much nutrients as it can from any food I eat, and another that helps retain water. I only use the bucket in the corner once a week because of them. I also have a set that keeps my muscles from atrophying. Their design isn't perfect, but it isn't tearing my soul apart either. If there was ever a time to be thankful for my half crazed mother forcing me to study magic far beyond my years, it would be now. Remus and James were also a source of a great amount of my knowledge base. The years we spent studying the animagus transformation, and the tattoos we gave each other to give us a reminder of our accomplishment were my absolute favorite memories. My patronus changed to Moony after that night, and it was always powered by the memory of the night we spent laughing and joking and drinking Firewhiskey until the sun was high in the sky.

I've long since burned the rat from the piece. Prongs prances about, while Padfoot and Moony clash above the jagged pink scar that serves as a reminder of the betrayal that landed me in this godforsaken place. That one doesn't do anything but look good. However, it required a constant flow of magic through the stick and needle. Plus we had to enchant the ink and needle beforehand to allow for a consistent design, and to make the forms move. Moony was working on some other enchantments for it but it wasn't ready for when we finally all transformed. Even without the other enchantments it was good practice for my first tattoo in Azkaban, the one for water retention. I had to do with a piece of quill dropped by one of the aurors on their rare inspections. The quill broke so many times that I forced myself to learn how to wandlessly transfigure it into a needle. The process brought me back to my first class with Minnie.

To perform magic without a focus, a person needs to first be aware of their core. This means being aware of the core's fluctuations and identifying and monitoring areas of high magical activity within the body. A person needs to meditate extensively to become fully aware of their core, luckily that's also a requirement for the animagus ritual so I already knew how to do that and I practiced it actively until _that _day. There is no way to explain the feeling of being in tune with your magic, and as the muggles know, your soul. It calms you and excites you simultaneously, while your thoughts and emotions drift in and out of consciousness. The torrent of magic moves within you, lighting the nerves in a way that is far from physical. The difficult part is maintaining that smothering awareness while being coherent enough to entice a bit of the flow out of your body and into the physical world.

A swish and flick don't cut it when you don't have a wand, you need to rely on sheer willpower to get the magic to do what you want it to. After you get it out of your body, it needs somewhere to go or it'll dissipate into the air, having unknown and unintentional effects on the environment around it. Here in Azkaban, there's only one way for it to go. _Badly. _The first times I tried anything would have made for a riotous story had it been first year at Hogwarts. As it was, any wounds I got couldn't be solved by a trip to the Hospital Wing. Over that second year in Azkaban I practiced day in and day out to be able to cast even the most basic spells fluently, sustaining more injuries than I would readily admit. After five years I think not getting my wand back when I get out wouldn't even be that bad. That is, if I ever get out.

I have plans, but the timing hasn't been right. The year has been oddly calm, no hurricane level winds or hail the size of fists so far. Highly irregular. That's the weather for you though. Why, you might ask, would I want to enter the ocean under those conditions? The answer is quite simple really. It's hard to notice the distortions from my Disillusionment when the whole area is being blanketed in rain and the grass is dancing in winds racing faster than a kid taking his dad's Bentley for a joyride.

* * *

The stairs were the worst part of the House. Of that I was certain. Upside down jars, with some type of goblin head stuffed inside. Why anyone would put that in their house I had no idea. Draena was not amused either, although for entirely different reasons. The talking paintings on the other hand, while often rude or just crude, were amazingly interesting to converse with. The things they lived through, and the stories they told; The magic's they saw, wielded, and invented. There was one couple who saw the Romans and Celts fight over Britain. The Romans had brutal and effective magic that overwhelmed the 'rudimentary' Celtic magics, they laughingly explained. The Celts focused too much on improving their tools and not on using magic as the delivery method itself, according to the couple. The man told me that in their lifetime they had written journals, if I could find the shelf they were located on. That lead me back to the second floor. There was a huge polished door marked '_Black Library_' off of the left hallway that earlier I had passed over for later exploration. Apparently later would be now.

The door's locks opened after I started yelling stupid phrases at the door. Draena interrupted my nonsensical tirade with a sarcastic remark and my focus turned to the snake for my laughing reply. When I looked back up from the reptile on my shoulder, the door was hanging open, inviting me into the dim room behind. _What was that? Some kind of password? Did I guess right? _I slowly wandered in, admiring the wood work and the rows upon rows of books.

This had to be some abandoned mansion from the Victorian era. The wall sconces were extravagant and very telling of the age and wealth of it's occupants. Not to mention the thickly bound tomes that filled the walls and the dozen or so ceiling high shelves that winged the giant room. Not a single book was bound in simple paper and cardboard, they were all leather and ancient looking parchments. Seemingly placed on the shelves randomly, none of the titles held a pence of sense. Draena was keeping up a steady commentary on the ridiculousness of the titles, as I quoted the most interesting of the bunch. I was about to give up on finding anything I could make use of, when a row of similarly bound books caught my eye. Those would have to be those journals the portraits were talking about, or maybe some type of encyclopedia.

The tall books were all bound in a deep black, standing out in contrast to the surrounding tomes. Most of them looked to be some type of heavily varnished leather. Some were shiny and seemingly brand new, while others were worn down from a lifetime of heavy use. As I came close to the shelf the silver titles became clear. Revealing a set of journals with _Memoire_ as the title, followed by a name and some smaller writing. I stood amazed for a moment, a metre away from an entire family's written history. If the dates on the occasional spine were true, this family stretched back over a millennia. I was surprised that some of the older books hadn't disappeared altogether. Contemplating the magic that must keep them in good condition, I finally noticed something that I had been wondering about all afternoon. All of the names ended in Black, or a flowery handful of 'Blacke's. Another thing I noticed was that they used first names way too many times. Family reunions must have been tough for them. I did like the names though. Arcturus, Sirius, Pollux. They reminded me of something I couldn't place, like I had heard them before but couldn't remember where. I pulled down one that had '_1756-1818 Memoire of Polluxe Black VII' _painted down the spine in nearly unreadable paint. This was one of the more beaten up journals on the shelf, it's once shiny leather cover soft and matte. White lines danced across the front and back, making it's deep black into more of a grey.

"_Perhaps, little human, you should not be so quick to touch things in this strange place. I smell an oddness about, one that is not familiar to me."_

Ignoring such sage advice, I cracked the cover open, seeking some insight into this giant, seemingly abandoned house. The dust alone was almost enough to make me put it down right there. The little green bloke staring at me from the other side of the cloud was more than enough to make me drop the ancient tome in surprise. Before it hit the ground the creature lifted it's finger and flicked it at the shelf, where the book returned before it could hit the floor.

"Kreacher wonders why you were not expelled at once? The wards should have prevented this. Mistress will be furious." It began speaking before I could say anything. "You must come with Kreacher, boy. I'll get the Mistress, she can sort it out."

I didn't know who this Mistress was, but I had found no signs of active life in the hour I had been out of the room and I wanted to find out who would own a place like this. As we walked by the heads of what I imagined were this Creature's ancestors I reconsidered, and thought about trying to use magic to get out, but I couldn't find the strength before we got to the bottom of the stairs and the green guy, Kreacher I guess, looked at me with such a suspicious look that I didn't keep trying.

I hadn't gone to the main floor yet, the place was just so big that I didn't want to miss anything in the upper floors. Kreacher lead me past the front door and into a doorway across the corridor. This seemed to be a living room, or what would be one if there was anything entertaining in the room. The walls were papered in deep emerald with silver filigree, and there was lavish wooden trim to the top and bottom. A giant fireplace made of dark bricks and silver inlay was set into the wall across from me. There were two marble statues of skeletal horses with wings rearing up to either side of the fireplace, their hooves framing the mantle. There was a single window to the left, it's grimy surface not showing anything beyond a hazy view of some grass and pavement. I could almost make out buildings across the street but I couldn't tell if they were houses or something else.

"You will stay here until Kreacher returns. Touch nothing, half-blood." Kreacher spat out the last sentence, like he was addressing a cockroach and not a confused child. Abruptly, he turned heel and walked out of the room, leaving me to my thoughts and observations.

The couches looked terribly uncomfortable, until I tentatively sat in one to test it. They were deceivingly plush, and I would have sunk back into the cushions if not for the cloud that immediately surrounded me and launched a sneezing fit. When I was finally calming down I heard voices approaching from the hallway. The mini green goblin came in first, pointing at something behind him. He was listening to the feminine voice emanating from the doorway and not paying much mind to me.

"_Why_ have you disturbed me? I _told you_ I did _not _want to be moved from that _damn_ wall!" It was not a particularly kind voice, and I hoped she wouldn't be that short with me. I had just run away in order to not deal with that kind of stuff anymore. But when the gilded frame of a painting came into view, I couldn't suppress a smile. Draena started to question my sanity, and that of every other human magician while Kreacher calmed the woman down. Before the woman in the painting could address me, I looked down at Draena with a grin.

"_You know you can leave anytime, right." _

"_I know, but this is far more amusing than catching rats in the countryside." _

Just then, the woman in the painting began to introduce herself.

"I am Walburga Black nee Black. Last Matriarch of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black." The woman's aristocratic face was not kind, but at least it wasn't hateful like the goblin's. "You may address me as Lady Black. I would ask your business in the ancestral Home of the Black Family."

-o-0-o-

End Chapter

A/N Walburga's painting isn't insane because this is one year before Hogwarts, and there's been less time to decay her mind/enchantments. Also, I have a headcanon about her attitude and that her being stuck to the wall is an enchantment that only activated if Sirius became Head of the Family.


End file.
